A Gravestone and Tootsie Rolls
by ImaginationMadeMeLove
Summary: She was excited, she had one favorite meal every month. And she wouldn't miss it for the world. It was her favorite date now. one consisting of a gravestone and tootsie rolls.


Notes: In this fic, Shepard survived the destruction of the reapers and went into retirement, but Thane did die as the game portrays

Work Text:

Never once did Shepard ever think she could get excited about white sliced bread. Spinning open a brown lid of smooth peanut butter she pushed a knife inside. Looking to the side, the stark differences in the blood red jam against the white marble counter, was striking. Marble countertops and hardwood floors. Turning around she leaned back against the counter, the edge biting into the small of her back. Her retirement, and disability checks were generous. Apparently, being caught in the arms of death and returning to save the universe from a synthetic delete had its perks. She had been handed this large apartment in the states. Arizona. It was hot here, dry, and brown. The apartment was cool, the Alliance's spending money had no restraints in regards to her living expense. A a one bedroom, not overly spacious but more than enough room for a single woman and the new Golden lab that she had adopted. There was more than plenty enough space to host the occasional small reunion with multiple crew members, a smattering of all three crews. Rubbing her hands absentmindedly over the cool countertops Shepard turned around and got back to the task at hand.

The jam lid was sticky, providing mild resistance, but nothing she had to fight against. Grabbing a spoon she pushed it in to the gelatin like substance, briefly memorized by the sight of red swallowing silver. Shepard fell into a muscle memory. Habit. Making a peanut butter and jelly wasn't difficult by any standards. A sandwich she made at least once a month.

Important.

Ziploc, into lunch box. This, followed by an apple, a chocolate bar, carrot sticks and… always, two tootsie rolls.

Every time. Precise. Memorable.

The sound of the air-conditioning, the hiss of a zippering lunchbox. The only sounds to break the silence of the apartment. Running gun calloused fingers over her headband. Black, binding hair back the same length should one in the alliance.

Familiar.

With sock feet against spotless floors she moved to the door. Placing small feet into boots, Navy regs. A jacket, light in weight. Protection against some life that love to blister and peel of their humans and after time mostly spent inside the bones of the ship, no tan Shepard could seem to keep. But she lived in the desert, she had no preference where she lived or spent her time on earth. But she had promised him that she would get him to a desert somehow, someway. And she had kept her promise, and that was enough for her. Grabbing her keys off the dark wooden table by the door Shepard shrugged into the jacket and headed out. She felt no need to lock the door, her acres of land as well as the pup she had trained would keep her home safe.

With the crunch of boots against the gravel of her driveway she headed out to the simple car, forest green with veteran license plates. With a beep, and sliding onto leather seats she started up the car, the rumble an unfamiliar sound compared to that of the Normandy. Besides that, this life had become normal. Backing out of the driveway she fell into remote control mode and began to drive. Scenery, brown smattered with green flew by the window as she drove. Once a month, at least she made this trip. No one questioned her, it was understandable. The guard of the gate give her a wave, familiar and friendly. She smiled back, although she knew that he would not be able to see her response through the dark tint of her windows.

Here, she slowed, crawling along at the speed of 5 mph. The roads now dirt were lined with green, green grass and stone. Stone carved in all shapes and sizes of all meanings and different languages, markings and memories. Far, to the north end about 2 miles away sat a plot. Closet to the unblemished desert sand she could manage. If one had no clue what they were looking at, the marker would seem plan, almost hidden in the sea of memories along the way. Like the life and marked. Like an assassin hiding amongst the crowd until he wished to be seen or to complete his task. Nudging the car the park shivered pushed your sunglasses up her nose and got out. One short leg after another. Lunchbox in hand she stepped onto the grass and moved until she stood in front of the stone, eyes sliding over the markings.  
There in front of the stone was a bouquet of the lilies, one of daffodils, a small blade and a badge. It seemed as if some of her friends had sent their condolences. It meant more to her then they realized. Crossing her legs she sat on the side of the stone, leaning backward into the curve of the headstone pressed between her shoulder blades. Calmly unwrapping one of the tootsie rolls she popped into her mouth and chewed slowly.

A feat. Her fingers used to tremble with emotion and salty tears. She almost couldn't get it open.

From there she began to explain everything that she had done for the last month. All her travels off the earth, the speeches and the talks and the award ceremonies. That she had taught her dog how to walk on his back legs, to play dead. What Garrus and Liara were up to. That Kaiden and Trayner were about to have their first child. The stories were endless. How his son was doing and how she planned to be there in his place and her own for his wedding a mere two months away.  
Shepard talked, and talked as the sandwich was eaten, the chocolate bar devoured and half the carrot sticks left untouched. She was retired. If she wanted dessert instead of vegetables By the Goddess she would!

It was a lunch that she had introduced him to in her apartment on The Citadel. He had been thrilled and amused that small Earth children took this to their school on a normal basis and ate it. One time they had even invited Kolyat, and the younger Drell had been so enamored with the pairing of foods he had asked where to purchase each item so that he may take it on his own. This had solidified the meal as his father's favorite. And every time they return to the Citadel they ate it at least once with sticky fingers and chocolate stained mouths this often led to a tangle of limbs, confessions and heightened towers pleasure.

It was why she now ate it at his grave, once a month. Pressing her cheek to the stone, hopped with the desert sun. She realized that the sun was now crawling beneath the horizon, to visit the other side of the earth as it was now the moons time to say hello. Fingers, pale and strained traced over the letters carved forever into stone. It was then she grabbed at the last tootsie roll, in addition to the lunch she had added a year and a half ago. When the war had ended and she returned to Earth. Tootsie rolls, which when she had introduced him to this human candy he had been thrilled and had taken to them like a child sweets. Shepard had made sure to keep a private stock inside her quarters on the Normandy. Every mission she had watched with delight as he grabbed two. One he would eat before they got off the shuttle. And the other he would eat when they got back on the Normandy.

(If they were taking the Mako, and she driving, he would grab a handful.)

A treat before and a treat. Making everything sweeter and reminding him of her had explained to her one evening. That was why now she always packed them, one to eat when she arrived and one when it was time for her to go.

Zipping up the lunchbox and getting to her feet she pressed a soft and promising kiss to the name etched in the stone. "I will be back, most likely after the wedding. And I will tell you about everything, every detail that my human mind can remember. It's almost upsetting that I don't have your memory, the memory of a Drell, so that I may be old to tell you every single detail as it was. But I promise all do my best. You have my promise, Thane." The fingers of her left hand wrapped tightly around her right forearm, where beneath her jacket black ink mocked her arm. 'I will meet you across the sea'. A promise for whenever her time in this universe was done.

She didn't rush forward to death, but she looked forward to seeing him once again. To hear his voice without the flitting of memory calling her Siha. The low baritone of his voice, the cool touch of fused fingers and the kiss painted with a pleasant venom. Turning she headed back to the car, she had guests coming over. Joker and EDI had exciting news for her and she didn't want to be late. She would be back. She was excited, she had one favorite meal every month. And she wouldn't miss it for the world. It was her favorite date now. one consisting of a gravestone and tootsie rolls.


End file.
